Five Times
by Asidian
Summary: Five times Poland realized he was in love with Lithuania. Poland/Liet.


Author's Note: Another entry for the Hetalia Kink meme, unanonned. The request was for Poland/Lithuania; five times Poland realized he was in love with Liet.

If countries being personified bothers you, GIVE THIS A MISS.

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Five Times

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**I.**

"I like, totally hate you!" The first thing at hand that Poland could readily take hold of was a fistful of dirt, and so he hurled it at the little boy who had clamored onto the roof of his house again. The throw missed; the loose soil sprinkled down harmlessly, and from the place where he crouched, one arm slung loosely around the chimney for support, the brunette laughed. It was an easy sound, a _friendly_ sound, and Poland grit his teeth together and stamped his little foot, heedless of the fact that he was trampling the plants in the garden.

"Go away!" the tiny blonde demanded. "This is my house!" He punctuated it with the throw of a rock, this time, and though it came closer than before, the intruder ducked in time to avoid it. "Oh my god, you have got, like, no manners!"

Next in line was a mushroom, one of the tasty wild ones that sometimes grew amidst the other plants, but in his anger the child did not hesitate to waste it. Soon it, too, went hurtling through the air- bounced off the forehead of the little boy on the roof. It fell a moment later to the ground, but the victory had been there, and Poland crowed it to the world, fists in the air, wild and triumphant in the way that only children can be.

It was not until Poland had chased the other child off once more- had tended to the crushed vegetables that he'd ignored before- had wiped the dirt from his hands and closed the door between himself and the incident- that he allowed himself to wonder when the boy would come back again.

He did not admit to himself that he hoped it would be soon.

**II.**

"You so should have asked for help earlier." Poland ignored Lithuania's wince as he swabbed the abrasion along one shoulder, rubbing hard to get the dirt out. "Now that we're living together, everything's gonna be, like, way better." The brunette hissed and tried to pull away, but Poland's grip on his arm held him in place.

"N-not so hard," Lithuania managed between gritted teeth. "Please." The knuckles of his hands had gone white as he clenched his fists against the pain; the recent battle with Russia really had left him in poor shape, and the systematic cleaning of the wounds had gone on long enough to leave him dizzy with the pain. His face was still smudged with the filth of battle, all dirt and dried blood, and those eyes, expressive forest green, were wet with unshed tears.

"You are _such _a baby," Poland told him, and looked away, suddenly guilty. "I, like, don't even know how you lasted this long."

But the cloth, after he had rinsed it, returned to its task much more gently this time- and the cautious dabbing earned him a grateful smile that made his heart throb with a sudden intensity.

**III.**

"Liet," Poland gasped, and lifted himself again, the muscles in his calves and thighs burning with the effort. It did not surprise him to discover that his lover's hands were there before he could manage a word more, cupping his skin with reverence, providing support before he could think to ask for it. "_Liet_," he said again, and his head fell back to stare unseeing up at the wide blue of the sky. He was lost in the thick, languid pleasure of the act, lost in the sensation of Lithuania inside him, lost in a moment that he wished would last forever.

All around them, the wind rocked the rye like a cradle, drawing from the plants a soft susurration that filled his ears; below him Lithuania made a hitching little moan as Poland bore down once more.

And when one of Lithuania's hands reached up, tender and attentive, to take him in hand, Poland came hard and sudden, his lover's name on his lips.

**IV.**

"I totally do not steal the covers," Poland insisted, and took the blankets in one hand as he rolled over, pulling them completely from Lithuania's side of the bed.

The squawk of indignation that followed was expected, and Poland felt a wicked smile creep its way onto his lips in response, though in the darkness of the room he was certain that it would remain unseen. There was a moment's silence- an _exasperated_ silence, Poland knew from experience- and then the bed creaked as Lithuania moved.

"You're supposed to share, you know," his lover told him, the words a gentle reprimand as he slipped up alongside the little blonde. But when warm arms slipped around his chest, drawing him in snug so that Lithuania could nuzzle at his ear, he knew there was no anger in the words.

Poland laughed; it was a sound both careless and uncomplicated. "I'm like, completely awesome at sharing."

"Shh. Listen." He could feel Lithuania's breathing, slow and regular, where their bodies were pressed together. "It's starting to rain."

It was the crash of thunder outside that woke him, and the sudden downpour that followed it was deafening in the little bedroom. Poland started despite himself- stared bleary-eyed and bewildered for a moment around this room that was not his.

It was not until he wriggled onto his side once more, trying to find a more comfortable position, that he saw the other half of the bed: cold. Empty.

And, still caught up in the grip of a dream that had been very real indeed, Poland cried.

**V.**

"I'm so gonna visit you, like, all the time now."

Poland let himself into the house without being invited, sweeping past Lithuania and favoring the place with a blunt appraisal. It was not so impressive as the one they had used to share, but it had four walls and a ceiling- and perhaps most important of all, there was a glimmer of pride on Lithuania's face that he had not seen in a long time.

It showed in the way he held his shoulders, no longer hunched as though expecting a blow; it showed in the way those eyes, as dazzling a forest green as Poland remembered, met his own and did not look away. It showed in the smile that bloomed across his lover's face, sweet and honest and a little bit awed, and in the way Lithuania was forced to blink several times, hard, and scrub at his eyes.

Something inside Poland gave a little lurch and twisted at the sight, and the laugh that dragged itself up out of his throat was shaky. Before he knew what he'd intended to do, his arms were wrapped around Lithuania's waist, hands fisted in the fabric of a crisp white shirt.

"Liet," he said, and choked on the word. "You are gonna be totally sick of me, I swear. You're gonna be all like, 'Oh my god, it's Poland again, go home already.'"

When Lithuania lifted his arms to return the embrace, Poland was not surprised to discover that those gentle hands were trembling. "I missed you," came the quiet confession- and somewhere beneath the words something else remained unsaid, silent but no less true for going unspoken.

"Yeah." Poland leaned forward to rest his head on Lithuania's chest. "It's been, like, way too long." To stop the stinging at the corners of his eyes, Poland closed them. "I missed you, too."

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**Historical note**: Part 1 takes part between 1201 and 1263, a period of time over which Lithuania sent a recorded fourteen military expeditions to Poland. Part 2 takes place directly after the forming of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Part 3 is during the Commonwealth's heyday. Part 4 is directly following the Three Partitions of Poland, which is why Poland is not in his own house- and of course why Lithuania is not there. And finally, part 5 takes place in 1990, after Lithuania declared independence.


End file.
